


Who's Laughing Now, Stark?

by Avathys



Category: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: But doesn’t get on, GRAPHIC RAPE!, Here there be fucked up shit, He’s just thrown to the side, M/M, Mysterio takes his vengeance, Peter is hit by the train in the fight with Mysterio, Quentin's POV, So even more fucked up, Spider-Man: Far From Home (Movie), Why did the author write this, You are Warned!!!, because she is disturbed, enjoy, seriously
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-12
Updated: 2019-07-12
Packaged: 2020-06-26 18:52:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19774282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Avathys/pseuds/Avathys
Summary: To be honest, Beck is not quite sure why he does it.He’s not even gay.Sure, Peter is a good looking kid, practically glowing in youth and nerdy charm. Beck hadn’t been lying when he said he liked Peter, genuinely he did, and there’s no denying that the college freshman was a heartbreaker. Between his soulful eyes and smooth skin, Beck has to admit that Peter is nice to look at, ‘no homo’ be damned. Peter even has a slender, slightly effeminate physique that could just barely skew the line between genders.Beck has no idea why, as he stares down at an unconcience Peter after the stupid kid stepped in front a train like the gullible moron he is, he feels the need to take things further. Something primal and ugly and animal stirs deep in the darker parts of his mind.Everything is about sex, except sex.Sex is about power.NOTE: I aged Peter up to be an 18 year old college student. Still on a school sponsored trip with his classmates, just older.





	Who's Laughing Now, Stark?

**Author's Note:**

> Ok, so this little disturbing morsel was just a flash idea to get my juices flowing. It's short, not planned out, just a oneshot. 
> 
> This story does take place right after the amazing midcredit sequence in Spider-man: Far From Home when Mysterio reveals himself as a bad guy and his full scope of powers. If you haven't seen the movie, this story might not make sense to you. The fight ends with Peter being struck by a train. In this story, instead of being whisked away to safety (Hi, Netherlands!) on the train, he is just knocked out to the side and Quentin gets revenge. 
> 
> This is not only about a rape, it is also from Quentin's POV. So it's pretty messed up. Don't say I didn't warn you!
> 
> Finally, because I just can't do underage, maybe for consensual between teens, but I can't do an underage rape, i just can't. So Peter is still a student, he's just an 18 year old college freshman instead. He's still on a school trip with his friends. Nothing else is changed. 
> 
> Ok, Final Warning...
> 
> Enjoy!

To be honest, Beck is not quite sure why he does it. 

He’s not even gay.

Sure, Peter is a good looking kid, practically glowing in youth and nerdy charm. Beck hadn’t been lying when he said he liked Peter, genuinely he did, and there’s no denying that the college freshman was a heartbreaker. Between his soulful eyes and smooth skin, Beck has to admit that Peter is nice to look at, ‘no homo’ be damned. Peter even has a slender, slightly effeminate physique that could just barely skew the line between genders. 

Beck has no idea why, as he stares down at an unconcience Peter after the stupid kid stepped in front a train like the gullible moron he is, he feels the need to take things further. Something primal and ugly and animal stirs deep in the darker parts of his mind. 

Everything is about sex, except sex. 

Sex is about power. 

Beck isn’t just angry. He is black with rage. He doesn’t just want revenge, he wants to punish. He wants to make Stark hurt. Fortunately, or perhaps unfortunately for Beck since he wanted Stark to know he’d lost and that his precious protege was now bloody and helpless, the egotistical asshole went and killed himself. Ugh. Yet another useless, gullible moron. 

The end of the train finally whistles past and rattles on down the track, leaving Beck in peace.

Peter isn’t moving. 

Apparently knock out by bullet train was a pretty safe bet to remove Peter Parker from a situation. Not that he would ever admit this, but Beck had been anxious and snappy ever since the missing projector was found to be in Spiderman’s possession. Everything else was going so smoothly, all the chess pieces had been moved and fallen into place so carefully, so beautifully. There was no way Beck could allow an eighteen year old who’s sole focus this summer was _a_ _girl_ , of all things, mess any of it up. 

Now that Beck has Peter right were he wants him though, he finds what he _wants_ to do is something entirely unplanned. 

He doesn’t know why he does it, but Beck reaches down to pick up the young superhero off the gravel and slings him over one shoulder. The prone body doesn’t even flinch, just flops around like a ragdoll. Every once in a while Peter lets out a ragged breath. Beck’s tech says the unconscious figure has a steady heartbeat. 

“Janice, start prep for London. Gutterman, can you drive a bus? We’re gonna need you to play tour guide for just a little while.” Beck says matter-of-factly, walking back towards the horrendously awful contraption passing as a car parked in front of the gutted building he had just convinced a foolish Spiderman was Interpol. 

He hears the chatter of his team over the comms, the quick affirmatives and efficient planning of his well oiled master plan. Beck allows himself a moment of pride, he deserves it, before barking out a few orders. He is standing at the car’s passenger side, still in his ridiculous suit, and yet, finally he is seeing the payoff from his years of patience and genius. 

“Now, I’ll be back within the hour,” He states, “I want everything ready. Tomorrow must. Be. Perfect.” 

Without even waiting for any answers or guarantees of success, Beck rips off his helmet and earpiece and tosses them both with his master control console through the open window of the car into the front passenger seat. After just a quick moment of self contemplation, Beck continues to follow some instinctual need that has him laying Peter out in the faded and dusty back seat of the car. The kid finally stirs, just a few groans and his fingers are flexing and twitching like mad.

The dark impulses are growing, now deep in Beck’s gut and surging downward, outward. He can feel himself shaking with the desire to punch something. This will have to do, he guesses. It takes Beck a moment to find any way to strip off the, quite frankly ugly and pedestrian, black suit, but he manages. Quick rough tugs peel it away from sweaty, bruised skin. Peter is all long toned limbs and so, so pale. For having just been struck by a train, there is surprisingly little blood on him. Beck is thankful, blood is such a major turn off. 

Finally Spiderman is stripped to his boxers, which are covered in little Captain America shields.

“How old are you kid? 14?” Beck rolls his eyes, only to find them creeping to glance at the anatomical bump in the fabric between Peter’s now spread legs. While Beck unzips his own suit, a very practical zipper down the middle of the chest and ending below his navel, Peter’s eyes finally flicker open. They’re blank and red rimmed, pupil blown wide in shock against the deep brown. Beck wonders if it’s brain damage. That would be a pity, especially since Peter is so bright. Peter’s breaths are quick little hiccups that the helpless kid probably has no control over as he blinks rapidly up at the car’s ceiling. One arm waves frantically, as if trying to grab anything he can, and ends up flopping gracelessly towards the floorboard. 

Beck knows he is going to have to be quick about this. After all, Spiderman is still Spiderman, and Beck is just a man. As soon as Peter decides this increasingly risky escapade ends, Beck probably won’t have much say in the matter. He’s still not even sure that this is exactly what he wants. There is no desire there, especially not for anything intimate or ongoing. And honestly, Beck is kind of repulsed at the thought of kissing Peter. Yet, wanting to fuck Spiderman raw is not something he ever thought he would want to do either. When he pushes his silver tech laden uniform down over his hips and plunges one hand into his own boxers however, Beck finds himself growing impossibly hard. The heat is scorching, but it pales in comparison to the churning storm in his lower abdomen. Finally touching himself sends an impossible itch racing all over his body. He pulls himself fully out of his boxers, irritated and desperate, only to rest his angry red member on the V created by the outer uniform’s zipper. 

Finally giving in, Beck carefully lays himself over the much smaller man’s body, surrounding Peter and covering him completely. The damp skin on both of their chests sticks together a little, almost gluing them together. It’s an odd feeling to share air with Spiderman, their mouths so close, but Beck stays propped up on one elbow, wanting to savor the shock and terror on Peter’s face. He doubts their lips will ever get any closer to each other than they are now. 

Beck’s almost painful erection now rests on the crook of Peter’s upper thigh and he finds that the friction created when he rolls his hips forward absolutely divine. Peter is still very dazed, Beck watches his face closely as their noses are almost touching, but then the webslinger jerks when the larger man presses their lower regions together and one hand even comes up to grasp Beck’s wrist suddenly. However, Peter doesn’t push him away. Dumbass kid has no idea what’s going on. Probably never, even in his wildest dreams, thought something like this could happen, least of all to him. 

Beck pushes his hips down harder, rolling them faster in the tell tale rhythm of sex. He hasn’t even penetrated Peter and Beck can tell he might even be able to cum from just dry humping Peter’s clothed thigh. But that would end up being such a wasted opportunity. Beck needs more.

Deciding that yes, he _does_ indeed want to have sex with Peter Parker, is both exciting and confusing. 

Almost growling in primal need, Beck lifts himself up just enough to yank Peters boxers down those creamy thighs. Beck doesn’t really feel like waiting much longer so he doesn’t completely pull them off. For the first time, Peter’s most intimate parts become visible. His dick, slightly smaller than Beck’s own Beck is smug to see, is completely flaccid, the soft skin sweaty and shiny like the rest of Peter's flushed body. 

“Wha-??” Peter finally says, and Beck grabs the hand clamped around his wrist and pins it above Peter’s head. Using his other hand, he quickly spreads Peter’s naked legs even wider, made awkward by the car, but fuck, Beck doesn’t even care.

“Beck, what are you doing?” Peter rasps, but it’s too late. Beck already has his hand around his aching cock and is lining up between deliciously prone thighs. It takes only a moment for Beck to find the tight ring of smooth muscle and begin pressing forward. 

Beck hisses. Peter sucks in, his eyes going wide, like he’s just now realizing what is happening.

With one brutal push, Beck shoves forward. 

Then there is nothing but all encompassing heat and Beck cries out, almost as if in pain; he can’t contain himself as he buries his nose into the sweaty hair behind Peter’s ear. Peter himself is silent. When Beck thrust into him, the kid’s entire body seized up like a spring and his eyes rolled back into his head. His mouth is now open, impossibly wide, in a silent scream, but no air is going in or out. He’s just frozen.

Beck squeezes Peter to him with his free arm as he presses their heads together. 

The motion feels a little too intimate, but when Peter turns his head upward to try and pull away, Beck follows him, leaning into the smaller man, pushing closer, harder. It’s all too much and not enough all at the same time. He needs to move and take and destroy, but something is screaming to just live in this raw moment for all eternity. 

Who knew hate sex was the most primitively satisfying feeling in all creation?

Who knew hurting your enemies in such a deeply intimate way could be so fucking fullfilling?

Who’s laughing now, Stark?

Beck finally comes back to himself and pulls out, only to immediately press back in. It’s so overwhelming that he knows he won’t last long. Already the heated pressure at the base of his cock is becoming damn near unbearable. Everything is becoming smaller, nothing mattering except the place where the two of them are connected. Beck is breathing like a winded bull, huffing great gusts of sweaty air into Peter’s neck, and Peter is just making this faint broken squeak with every thrust. 

Something seems to come to Peter though because he uses his free hand to push hard against Beck’s chest, forcing him upwards. Beck’s heart skips a few beats. A single shove at full strength from Peter could send him flying. Beck knows this. Peter’s a broken man though, Beck can tell. There is no heat to the frantic action; it’s just the instinctual panic of a scared animal, a need for space, for grounding. 

Beck smiles. 

With full confidence in the outcome, Beck carefully, almost slowly, curls his own fingers around Peter’s wrist like a clamp.

“Please…” Peter whispers. He begins to shake his head desperately as Beck peels Peter’s fingers away only to shove the younger man’s once free hand down into the car’s faded backseat, joining the wrist already pinned there above Peter’s head. To make his point, and maybe just to be dick, Beck gives a particularly forceful shove, slapping his balls on Peter’s now pink-flushed ass. 

Peter cries out, a broken sound that triggers all Beck’s predatory tendencies, and then seems to deflate inward. There is a far away look clouding his eyes. 

“Oh no,” Beck bites out between clenched teeth, “You’re staying with me kid.” 

His thrusts are becoming more frantic and irregular, pumping in a brutally uncontrollable pace. This will all be over soon. Peter’s own cock might still be soft and uninterested, but Beck’s is leaking eagerly, pulsing in anticipation. Beck has already made up his mind that he is going to cum as deep inside the superhero beneath him as he can. 

Peter is going to never forget what it feels like. Beck’ll make sure of it. 

To keep Peter here with him, Beck crosses that line he originally thought was between the two of them. Leaning forward, he presses his lips against Peter’s, demanding entrance so he can swirl his tongue downward to claim anything and everything Peter might try to keep untainted. Unsurprisingly, little resistance is offered on Peter’s part. In frustration, Beck’s tongue fuckery soon escalates into full on bites, on Peter’s lips, along the line of his jaw. Beck is pretty sure that Peter’s bottom lip is now bleeding and it just eggs Beck on even further. 

Beck wants to mark Peter permanently. Since he can’t exactly do that midsex, he settles to make a line of violent hickies down Peter’s slim throat. 

And then finally, when the pressure has built up too much, when everything just seems to be fire and tunnel vision, Beck shoves home one last time, impossibly deep, both of their thighs slammed together to become one. As he crests, orgasm ripping into him like a damn grenade thrown at his chest, Beck bites viciously into Peter’s collar bone, hard enough that the skin breaks and blood floods into his mouth. 

Beck actually loves the copper tang coating his tongue. 

Ok, so maybe a little bloodsport is fine. 

Gasping for air, Beck realizes he has his full weight pressing Peter into the car’s upholstery. It’s impossible to tell which parts are Beck and which parts are Peter. Their damp, heaving chests are pressed together, slipping against each other. The kid has turned his head to the side and Beck can see the redness, the tears. Peter shakes under him and there is no mistaking the motion as silent crying.

“Don’t cry, Peter,” Beck demands, his floaty feeling already ebbing away sooner than he wants it to, “Don’t ruin this moment for me.”

Peter whips his head to look up at Beck furiously, but the moment their eyes meet, Peter deflates again. Stupid little brat looks like he’s only twelves years old and so, _so_ lost. Everything about him screams…. 

“Are you a virgin?” Beck smirks as the words leave his mouth. He can feel his cock slowly shrinking, still stuffed far up Peter’s ass. “Well, _were_ you a virgin?” 

Peter looks away again, closing his eyes as fresh tears roll down his checks in wet, sloppy lines. That’s all the answer Beck needs. He lets out a little laugh before pulling out, using the still open car door to steady himself as he stands at the car’s side. His legs have gone all jello like in only a way good sex can make them. 

“Don’t worry, kid,” He says while tucking himself back into his boxers. Reaching in to grab one of Peter’s biceps, Beck yanks him out as well, once again marveling at how light and small the kid is. “There will be others.” 

Peter has a much harder time standing than Beck does, he seems to want to keep his legs partially spread due to how raw and pink the insides of his thighs are. And Beck thinks he sees a few smears of blood. Captain America boxers still wrapped around Peter’s thighs, Beck marches him over to one of the piles of gravel and trash and shoves the superhero as hard as he can, adding him to the heap. 

Beck is about to leave, just walk away without any further interaction, but he then turns and looks back at the broken man hunched among the bare and forgotten landscape. Peter isn’t looking at him, so Beck takes just a single step forward. Peter jumps, eyes wild, resembling some spooked, feral creature. 

Beck almost feels bad as their eyes finally meet. 

Almost. 

“Come near me again,” Beck warns quietly, “And I’ll do this again…. And again… and _again_.” 

With that he turns and walks away. He thinks he may hear the thump of Peter passing out, or maybe just laying down, who cares. 

He’s broken Spiderman. 

No need to look back and check to make sure he’s still down. 

  


**Author's Note:**

> So yeah....That happened. 
> 
> I have considered an follow up from Peter's POV. Or maybe an aftermath. As of right now, this is it. 
> 
> Leave me a comment down below, but no griping at me. I put warnings. You knew damn well what you were getting into, Karen. 
> 
> ttfn


End file.
